The Thaw Before The Spring

From January to September, the light lasts a little longer each day.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Vignettes - Chapter 2Todd and DaveOne the first times I met Todd, he had sun-bleached streaky hair,wore camo shorts and was very loud. Todd was the source of manystories among my good friends Jeff and Garry. Somewhat enigmaticand sometimes nearly fictional, Todd has been the source of manyfolktales in my life. Once, while Todd was faxing his resume toCamp Iawah, applying to work with the ILT program for thesummer, another mutual friend named Chuck snuck into the officewhere Todd was faxing and shot Todd (and his resume) with awatergun from across the room. The blast of water caused theresume to rip in half while faxing, ultimately only sending half ofTodd's credentials to Camp IAWAH. Another time, when Toddand his housemate Dave had a seedy downtown Kingston housetogether, someone broke into the house while Todd was asleepand stole his wallet. He woke up several hours later. Another time,my friend Mark drove me all the way from Guelph to Kingstonin the middle of the night. We landed in Kingston at 3 am andpicked up Jeff (who in his sleepy state mistook me for 'Jesus') whoproceeded to call Todd to invite him out for breakfast. The fourof us ate a greasy breakfast at Lino's (which was shut downsome years ago probably due to mafia problematics) and thendropped Todd off at his house. Todd woke up the next morning,already an hour late for a three hour exam. He biked to theexam with all of his might (in late december) and still managedto do well, having only written for less than 2 of 3 possibleexam hours.

Another time, when Garry, Brad and I were introducing Toddto Camp IAWAH, the three of us helped do dishes for a retreatin late May. Todd put toiletscrew covers (you know thosewhite plugs at the bottoms of old toilets that cover the bolts)over his eyes and screamed completely ridiculous phrases atretreat guests from our window in the old staff building(Derbyshire). He yelled things like "QUIT MAKING NOISE!!CAN'T YOU SEE, I CAN'T SLEEP?? MY EYES WON'TCLOSE!!" and "I'M BLIND!! YOUR NOISE HAS MADEME BLIND!!" along with other phrases to that effect eventhough the guests outside our window were making very littlenoise at all.

That summer, in 1998, Todd got in more trouble than most badcampers...and he was a leader. Another time, after Todd hadhooked upwith his then-girlfriend-now-wife Chelsea, a groupof 6 or 7 of us (including Charn, Richka, one or two of theHeathers, Todd, Chels and I) were having dessert at theSleepless Goat. I was going through a hard time in myChristian life with everyone in my community talking about anddebating the topic of Calvinism (count yourself as blessed ifyou know nothing about it). Todd offered me some wisdomand encouragement in that area. He said to re-consider thesincerity of Calvin followers in the sense that John Calvin actuallyburned people at the stake. Todd then claimed to hear beesbuzzing in his head (He had drank about 5 or 6 coffee refills).Todd also often claimed he had Polio in the mornings and hadcaught it over night. Todd used to pretend he was a ghost whenthe lights were off by covering himself in a sheet. Todd alsoused to claim that there were 'animals in his drinking water'.

Todd spent much of his years at Queens, though, with a sidekick.Todd was rarely referred to without the naming of 'Dave' and itwas like this from the beginning of my knowing him. Dave B wasa tall Dutchman who, though quiet at times, had a wildside thatwas triggered by Todd. Though I never got to know Dave allthat intently, we have managed to keep in touch over the yearsand he is a regular blogger on my list (fungineer.blogspot.com).I feel like I did get to know Dave, however, through the proxyof Todd and my other Kingston friends. One of my fondestmemories involving myself, Todd and Dave was a day in Kingstonwhere I spent a full afternoon and evening with the two of them attheir old seedy downtown house. The day involved playingmassive amounts of Atari 2600 (in their Atari loft which was aseperate upper floor of the house that was dedicated to old schoolgaming), making and eating Reuben sandwiches (the ingredientsof which Todd's mom had just left for him the day before) andsomething that involved takingpictures in their bathroom with amaxipad stuck somewhere on my body. All I really rememberabout that incident was Dave laughing silently, into beet-redcolour, with his shoulders shaking. Todd was always more ofa giggler. I appreciated Dave and the role he has played in Todd'slife...and I hope he knows that...even though I don't fully know allthat it encompassed.

One time, in the spring of 98, Todd was living in Ottawa andworking at Yogen Fruz. He wasn't too sure about going to Iawahfor the summer anymore and even if he should visit for a weekend.He was starting to feel uncertainty about his life and was feelingpulled in many directions. I'm not a super-spiritual person by ANYstretch, but for some reason I felt compelled to call my new friendand tell him something that was heavy on my heart -

I called Todd one night and told him he needed to be at Iawah forthe upcoming weekend and for that whole summer, not because Iwanted him there, but because God did. That sort of thing has onlyhappened to me a handful of times. I felt awkward considering Iwas just starting to get to know Todd. I still don't fully know whyI called him and told him that to this day. He did, however, go toIawah that summer...and ended up meeting his wife.

I don't take any sort of credit for what happened and I never will.That same sort of thing happened to me (except Iwas on therecipient end) in Halifax after my friend Mark's wedding in June of99. Mark's pastor (who seemed to be an incredibly genuine andhonest guy) approached me after Mark's wedding, after havinghad only one conversation with me over the course of a weekend.He said "Matt - I feel like I have to tell you something" and youcould tell he was embarassed.He proceeded to tell me to 'stopworrying and stop running' and that 'God had never left me' andthat 'God wanted me to come home to Him'. Though initiallyweirded out, after walking away from the pastor in the banquethall on the campus of King's College in Halifax, I began to seehow much those words really applied to me at that point in my life.I'm glad that man approached me, even though he must have feltsuper awkward about it.

Today, I consider Todd to be an invaluable friend. He has alwayshad a wisdom beyond his years and any chance I have had to pickhis brain, I've taken. Though we weren't in each other's weddingparties and are not best friends, he is a dynamic revolutionary wholoves without limits and I'm blessed to know him. He once bloggedabout me, while he and Chels were in Korea, and it made me weep.

Friday, May 25, 2007

VignettesIt was the fall of 2001. I had just finisheda very rewarding summer season of Camp Iawah glory and I was making my first real steps towards being 'out there' - no longer in school and ready to make my first tracks into the real, cruel world. This would not be an easy process but essential to my existence, nonetheless. I had badly bleached blonde hair with super black roots and wore my oversized blue envy hoodie almost every other day. I had decided that Kingston was the city I wanted to take root within. I had a lot of friends there but at that time, the core group of friends I had come to know and love were moving...changing...evolving in many ways. Jeff was getting married the following spring and was now getting into a serious 'older-guy' routine. He had a full time job at Bombardier and excelled in pretty much everything he did. He was still (and will always be) an excellent guitarist but instead of wanting to play indie rock shows with me, he was content playing more at church and his amplifier knob barely ever went past 2 or 3 in the din of his bedroom. Montana, though, was still his wild and crazy Korean roommate but even he was starting to ask some serious life questions and begun to seem more down in the dumps. I used to think that being down in the dumps meant you were 'questioning' or 'struggling' with something but I realized that my thought patterns, especially concerning my faith, had been very naive for some time. But naievity, as it were, would be leaving my life very soon. Then there was Brian. Brian was only a guy I'd ever known through other people - He had lived with Jeff through most of Jeff's university career and a cousin of another great camp friend of mine named Paul.Brian was only an intimate part of my life for a few months but hereally played a big role in helping me figure out some 'crap'. Oneof the best memories I have of Brian is living in his reaction to myhaving fiery diarrhea from an extra spicy #5 from the Wok-In (seeingas it was the first meal of that day) in the park near his house. Brianhelped me plan and organize 'All The Hype' part deux. All The Hypepart one happened in May of 2001 on a dirt-track. It was a daylong concert of Christian bands (most of whom are now defunct)and an excuse to try event-planning. Both years were minimalsuccesses - financial nightmares but massive learning experiences.Brian helped me take it up a notch for year two. I rememberpraying with him, when part deux was all said and done, on arock with Jared Siebert. Jared's prayer was as real as they come:"God...you're friggin invisible. Why do you make it so hard?"You couldn't have three more different personalities praying onthat rock...but there we were. Stuck in the mire of beauty ofit all. (Brian is getting married soon.)To better explain Kingston, though, I feel I need to backpedal a little. That summer, I believe the word I referred to that described my camp experience was 'glory' - I really don't think any other word would suffice. For most of my life, being a Christian had been a strange, idiot-filled, nearly incomprehensible, masochistic uphill experience but that summer, I reached a place where I actually felt secure in my faith, surrounded by an amazing community, in which my ripe age of 25 was right smack in the middle of the age-dynamic of the massive staff that year. Though there are flaws that I see now, the whole feel of the summer had a glow of...childishness. It's as if fantasy and reality were intermingled for those two months and anything that was unachievable was achieved through a hard-working, dedicated, loving, mature and inter-supportive staff family. It was a time in my faith where I needed refreshment and craved a connection with God as opposed to cold, hard facts. This type of Christianity was becoming a major form of uprising to the boring, dusty churches of North America but I didn't feel that joining a Pentecostal assembly was any type of answer. In the times in my life where I have connected, and I mean truly and hyper-consciously connected with the big Man, it has always been genuine. I've never really been any good at faking, especially towards my faith - it feels fake most of the time anyways so any sense of reality within is always guarded well.

That summer was real. There was a team running the music or 'worship' (a term I'm not so comfortable using anymore) and it was a major pathway for people to reconcile, re-connect, and become introduced to the Father. I don't know why - It certainly wasn't because of anything we did. We were scared. It was Josh, Zac and I who really ran the show and decided who went where, what song would fit, what style of music we should play and what mood we were sensing, etc., etc. I've never been a part of a music team so clearly focused on God-ness that was as powerfully blessed as that summer.

I long for those days, in some respects. I wish that everyone could have as powerful of an experience as that summer in such a golden community of diverse people.

But I am here and now.I must make sense of what I have.Come along with me, won't you?

Monday, May 07, 2007

Brain VacationSome days, you just have to write because the fire is alive in your pen.Like Lester Bangs in Almost Famous says 'I used to stay up all night - ona little speed, mesculin...and some cough syrup...and just write pagesand pages...a dribble...about the faces of Coltrane.' A great line. Itembodies the art and the passion that lies behind writing.

What do I want to achieve by writing? What dark faces do I want to uncoverby rattling the bones of the past and waking the potential of the future?I have worked on and off on a fiction work for over five years but I canreally only write on that story when I feel truly inspired. Otherwise, itfeels like it is being forced. Writing, though, can be equated to dollarsand sense and sometimes that means handing in something (to a boss)you're not completely comfortable with in order to meet a deadline.

It's a weird monster. Writing can help us to tackle the closeted creature thatwrestles our subconscious, forming bridges to eiphany. It can also bea means of a distortion or inadequate context that snowballs into an inspiralworld of hatred and fear.

I have to get back into the habit of typing and writing while I'm at workinstead of just wishing the shift away into pieces. I guess, in some ways, thisplace has made me realize the creative side of me is still very alive and activebut that it needs feeding with constant water, light and soil. A plant cannotlive on mere wishes for its existence - it needs the work to be done by itscaretaker.

The weather brings a sense of renewal and relief. It's as if the sun isbringing out the sense of strength in all of us. Sometimes i hear the song'jesusland' by ben folds in my mind and i wonder if Jesus really would hanghis head in shame at a lot of the shit that goes on among his people and theirconstant misinterpretation of his love. Call me crazy, but I really don'tthink he would be picketing against the gay right. I also don't think he wouldbe so caught up in legalism and labelling. He came to liberate - not tosegregate. Too much of the christian bubble gets lost or scared within theidea of focusing on the heart of humanity. Isn't that what we are supposedto do? Aren't we supposed to be more concerned with the status ofsomeone's heart as opposed to their outward actions? I think so manythings (and perhaps NOT necessarily gay-ness) are a sign of massivediscontent and utter dissatisfaction of self - alcohol abuse, drug abuse,physical abuse, rape, acts of terror, etc. I think there is a deeper needwithin the hearts of all people that is being overlooked. That need is whati want to be concerned with - not that i have any specificstraight-and-narrow answer but I want to offer myself to my neighboursin order to help them take steps towards 'living life to the full'.

I live for the moments where people come together for a cause of agreater good. I think it is important that each individual be self-sustainableand intellectually charged but that individual is nothing without the deeproots of a real and vibrant community. Individuals can make differencesbut with the aid of a vitalized communal core, greater differences canbe made. A ripple effect can be seen in the living out of ideals withinpeople that truly care for and want the best for each other. This is what interests me - This is what drives me on.